Masquerade

New York, February 1^st, 1996

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a happy little girl who loved her father with all her heart. Then he left and only his aura remained, and something in the little girl’s heart broke. An abyss becoming larger and larger as time went by. The grown-ups in her life called it “trauma” but, for her, it was more like a dark room she could not escape from. The darkness inside that gorge would sometimes wrap around the little girl’s spirit so much that she genuinely didn’t know what to do with herself, who she was or where to go. She was convinced that nothing would ever be able to fill that void.

Then, several years later, the little girl – who, in the meantime, had become a beautiful young woman – met a handsome young man. Immediately a drop of pure light invaded her darkness, spreading its luminous tentacles all around, like an octopus made of sheer, intangible beauty. That light came from the young man. He was unique – so alien from this world and yet, at the same time, part of it. He was so ahead of his time, such a pioneer in everything he did – including the way he looked at her. Smart, and sharp, and funny, and creative. And sexy.

His name was Michael.

Lisa, the young woman, fell in love with him without even being aware that her spirit had started to soar in the exact moment he had stepped into her life. And Michael felt just the same way. He too had experienced emptiness and Lisa’s presence, her mysterious cerulean eyes that changed like the sky on a stormy day were the beacon of light he had been dreaming to find for all his life.

They were the king and the princess. And they were so in love. So perfectly happy. Theirs was a fairytale, a dream.

But they didn’t live in fantasy land: they lived in the real world. And in that world dreaming was not allowed. Not for long, anyway. Their soft cloud of happiness, the refuge that had made them feel both safe and secure, soon was blown to smithereens and they fell headfirst onto the cold, hard ground. Like Adam and Eve after the gate of Heaven had been closed on their face.

And so the abyss returned.

Lisa swallowed and closed her eyes, bringing the glass to her lips. Her hand trembled. She gulped down the shot of vodka and carelessly tossed the glass on the empty side of the couch. Her body curled up, barely resisting to the waves of pain washing over her. Her thoughts too convoluted to be expressed in words, her feelings… well… those were even too clear.

Loneliness. Regret. Love. Sorrow. Desperation.

Oh, she was good at stomping her feet. She was good at threatening, even when she didn’t mean it. Lisa almost didn’t know what passive-aggressiveness was, but sure as hell knew how to lash out when she felt cornered. Michael would always tell her that she was so many things, and of course, he was right. She could be volatile. She could be sweet. She could be temperamental and patient. She could be loving and vengeful. She could be unpredictable and foreseeable. Strong and fragile. Everything and its exact opposite at the same time.

But right now, at this very moment, the only thing she was, was empty.

She had tried to shake Michael up and drag him out of his consolidated thinking patterns by threatening him with a divorce that she didn’t want, and of course – he had called her bullshit. When all she had wanted was for him to realize that everything was crumbling around them. But she had fucked up. She had startled him by destroying what was left of their marriage. She had disappointed him and enraged him. And now it was all over.

Lisa blinked back the tears and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the coffee table. Her eyes burned, they were red and swollen. She had cried so much, for so long, that she didn’t even remember when she had started. Sure as hell she had no idea when she was going to stop. She had found refuge in their suite at the Trump Towers because she really didn’t want to be around anyone. Especially her people – including her mother. Those were the ones who had “advised” her. Go on, Lisa. Take him by surprise. He is not expecting you to make the first move. Catch him off-guard. Blindside him.

And blindsided him she had. Even though she had asked her lawyers to wait – to not send him those damn divorce papers without her expressed approval. But hey, apparently she and Michael were not the only two people making decisions in their marriage. Never had been.

Now she knew. They both had been ambushed. All along. They had never stood a chance.

Unsuccessfully, she had tried and tried to call Michael after realizing what had happened. She needed to talk to him, gauge his reactions, possibly apologize, or at the very least explain the whys and hows it all had occurred. She wondered if the dozens of messages she had left on his answering machine were the result of her return to sanity or of her complete and final descent into madness. But why bother, anyway. He had never picked up the phone. Typical. And so understandable, given their current predicament. He had disappeared on her as if he had fallen off the planet.

Only, he hadn’t.

Oh, she had seen the pictures of him having dinner with that make-up artist of his. She had seen how he smiled for the press. As if he didn’t care. As if he didn’t give a shit about the divorce, about her, about them. She has seen and had tasted the bile rising in her throat. The unforgettable flavor of retaliation, of revenge.

But she knew him. She was aware of the façade he would put up, of the walls he built to keep everything and everyone out – all the while, trapping himself in. Nobody gets in, nobody gets out. Michael was back at being that beautiful and remote and untouchable outlandish being that nobody could upset.

“Shit…” Lisa cursed under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.

He wasn’t going to call her back. As in, never, probably.

It was over.

Getting up from the couch she headed for the bathroom, swaying slightly, the alcohol blurring her vision. Well, she had been such a good girl, soft and pliant both to the outside voices and her inner demons. What was wrong with trying to forget? Too bad the only man she’d better lose every reminiscence of, seemed buried into her soul like a grappling hook into a thick layer of ice.

She left a trail of clothes on her path and, absent-mindedly, turned on the water in the shower. Under the hot jet, she unsuccessfully tried to clear her mind. Even her own body felt foreign, devoid of warmth despite the steam fogging the glass doors. She cried some more, did her best to feel clean both outside and inside, but it didn’t work out that well because the darkness has spread under her skin, like black blood running in her veins. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a huge, soft towel. She felt numb.

She didn’t even remember entering what had once been hers and Michael’s bedroom. The perfectly made bed bore witness of her long, lonely nights spent on the couch. She glanced around, feeling like a stranger in her own home, then opened a drawer, looking for some clothes. What she saw made her wince, but then her fingers stroked the fabric of one of Michael’s red shirts as if it was a life vest and another set of tears burned her eyes. She closed her fist into the shirt and brought it to her face, inhaling deeply, her husband’s scent making her quiver and slicing her open. At this rate, she would bleed out before Valentine’s, no doubt about that, maybe even before the end of the day. It was her birthday, and she didn’t remember the last time she had felt so utterly unhappy and defeated. Or maybe she did, but the last thing her mind needed was to go back there, when she had received the first, real slap in the face from life. Oh, she was born rich, and she was born famous. She was aware that many people resented her for that. But the pain she had endured since she was a child – well, Lisa was pretty sure that nobody would envy that about her. And nobody would want to take her place. Especially when that same pain decided not to stay buried in the past but cling to her instead, soiling her present, contaminating her future.

When she stepped into the corridor and saw Michael crouched down in the living room, staring into space and holding the t-shirt she had discarded, she almost had a heart attack.

He sensed her presence before he could see her but realized he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Not yet. It was too much. At that very moment he loved her and hated her with equal intensity. And he resented her with a passion that bordered insanity.

Of course, Michael knew exactly where she was. Even while he was busy ignoring her, he had always kept tabs on her. He had all the right. Their divorce wasn’t finalized yet and so, technically, she was still his wife. They were just… separated. Even though adrift was probably a more fitting term, as he felt like a castaway without her. He also had no idea where his raft was going. He was lost in the turbulence and didn’t have any oars or compass, but he had been rowing non-stop with his bare hands for days, trying to catch sight of a strip of land. Now, as he saw Lisa again after weeks of pulling his disappearing acts, he wondered why he felt like he had finally found it. His shore.

Still lightly fingering the fabric of her t-shirt, he stood up but kept his eyes fixed on the crumpled garment.

“Happy birthday…. And before you ask, I still have the key.”

His voice sounded hoarse, and he knew his appearance wasn’t any better. He also knew that Lisa had already noticed it. She was quick. She was sharp, although that bottle of vodka on the coffee table said a lot about her current state of mind. But she knew him very well. Michael was pretty sure she had also seen through his pathetic attempt at seeking revenge for the pain she had inflicted, by making himself available to the paps while taking Karen out for dinner. As if he could ever be interested in her that way. Lisa knew better.

It had been kind of childish, in retrospect. But so had been she. And if they were engaged in a pissing contest, Lisa would soon find out that he had way more trees he could lift his leg against. He was going to show her what a remarkable demonstration of tactical superiority looked like.

“Thank you. And of course you still have the key. This is still your home. And Donald is your friend, not mine. So… I guess I should apologize for camping here without telling you first. Or asking for your permission.”

“It doesn’t matter… I knew you were here.”

“Clearly…”

He finally brought himself to look up at her and he almost went weak at the knees. Lisa stood in the corridor, her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive posture, her features hard and her eyebrow lifted. There was no doubt that she was not as soft as she had sounded in some of the messages she had left on his answering machine. But she was also wearing nothing but one of his red shirts and that told Michael two things. The first was that she missed him. The second was that he had forgotten how drop-dead gorgeous his wife was. He guessed his mind had been acting in some sort of self-defense mechanism.

The cold aqua eyes staring back at him were probably the result of her realizing that not only he had made it a point to ignore her, but also that he had been monitoring her movements.

“You here to ask me to vacate the premises?”

Michael scoffed.

“Sure. Because otherwise I’d have nowhere else to go.”

“Look, don’t even start, OK. I’m not in the mood for your sarcasm. If you’re not here because you want me out, do what you gotta do and then leave.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Funny, ‘cause I thought you really, really wanted to see me, talk to me, wanted me to let you explain… at least, that’s what you said in your messages.”

“Right. But you never called back, and I had plenty of time to change my mind. So fuck off, Michael.” Her eyes narrowed. “ You were as clear as a bell, dude. I got the memo. But I will not allow you to humiliate me any longer.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about humiliation?” Sudden indignation assaulted him and he tossed her t-shirt on the floor, moving a couple of steps toward the corridor. He was standing at one end of it, she at the other, the space in between apparently insurmountable. How dared she?

“You wanna know what it feels like, to think that you’re gonna try again and you and your wife are on the same page about fixing their marriage, only to get divorce papers from her lawyer?” His voice barely concealed his anger, and he willed himself to regain a bit of self-control. So he pushed his closed fists into his pockets and leaned against the door frame, still looking at her. “Is that what you wanna talk about, Lisa Marie?”

For a split second the veil of hardness that made her eyes look like stainless steels labs faltered, and Michael saw the pain and hesitation she was trying so hard to hide from him. The realization of being still able to hurt her made a small, ugly part of him feel jubilant and he immediately felt ashamed of himself. This what not who he was. And that was not who she was. What had they become?

“I think I told you already… but you wouldn’t listen. I tried, Michael. More than once – you know that. But you didn’t wanna hear what I had to say.”

“Well, I’m here now.” This time, he couldn’t avoid sounding snippy.

“I’m not talking about now.”

He marveled at how good she was at keeping eye-contact, even though it was obvious that she was tipsy. Liquid courage always worked great when things got a tiny bit too ugly.

“I’m talking about… earlier. Before all this. I tried to tell you that things weren’t going well. That I was not OK with…”

“And I listened.”

“No, you didn’t listen. Just like you ain’t hearing me out now. You stopped listening a long time ago.” This time she lowered her eyes, staring into space, at something undefined in the void that kept them apart, both physically and emotionally. “And that’s when I lost you. Not now. Not because of those fucking divorce papers. Those are just that. Papers… They mean nothing.”

They meant nothing. And yet they meant everything. Lisa’s soul bled some more. Oh, the lies people would tell themselves to try to fix the unfixable.

“And yet it looks like you couldn’t wait for me to have ‘em, right?”

Michael’s sarcastic tone acted like a shock to her system.

“I was trying to make a fucking point!” Her voice rose, and she pointed her finger at him. “Can’t you stop for a second and think about how frustrated I must have been, to feel I had to resort to that?”

“Oh, you poor thing…” He cocked his head to a side, mocking her. “Poor little girl, you were so frustrated at big, bad me…”

Lisa shook her head and sniffled, and he detected the shiny veil of tears in her eyes. Tears. He was making her cry. Big surprise! And she had always accused him of being a crybaby. Well, look at that.

“Just leave, Michael. Go away…” She whispered, her hand raising to cover her eyes for a moment. “It’s a done deal. It’s over.”

If she had slapped the daylights out of him, it would have felt less painful. But this – this was lethal. Michael swallowed hard, the ugliness of their fight strangling him. But it was her suddenly slumped shoulders and her remote eyes that were his undoing. He had seen her mad, furious even, but never so defeated. She was giving up on him, on them. Her chest heaving, he could feel that she was desperately trying not to sob, not to show him any more weakness. And she was failing miserably.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he walked over to her and grabbed her by her arms. He hated himself for still caring so much about her. He hated himself for still being so in love with her, and so entangled in so many emotions – all rendering him confused and jumbled up. He didn’t like to feel that way. He needed to be in control, and not to spiral helplessly into an abyss of agony, longing and desperation.

“Look at me,” he hissed in between gritted teeth, shaking her.

Lisa’s sob erupted, but she kept her head lowered, all the while trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Obviously, it was no match. He was taller, stronger.

“I said, look at me!” This time his voice sounded like a growl, and it actually scared him.

“No… I don’t wanna look at you. Not now… not ever again.” Her voice broke and she sounded as if she couldn’t breathe. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed.

Lisa really couldn’t watch him. She couldn’t allow herself to see the real Michael, the one behind the unshaven beard, disheveled appearance, crumpled clothes, reddened eyes. She couldn’t allow herself to see his pain – a pain she had caused. She could barely stomach to see that agony on her own face, but on Michael’s? It was too much of a weight for her to bear.

“Lisa Marie! Lisa!” This time he shook her harder, and she mustered all the coldness that she could pretend she had. OK. He was not going to relent. And she needed to push him away somehow.

Lisa opened her eyes and looked up at him. What she saw, scared her. His forehead was covered in sweat, his face was flushed, his eyes were dark and blazing with rage and confusion. There was a heaviness, about him, that she had never seen before. Michael looked exhausted.

“Get your hands off me,” she spelled each word clearly, in a hiss, as their eyes locked. All the while, she reached up and pressed her hands to his chest, trying to shove him away. Caught off guard, Michael moved a step back but didn’t let go of her, making her lose her balance. Lisa landed against his chest and immediately tried to disentangle herself from him.

“Shit! Let me go, you fucking asshole!”

Well… OK. Apparently, his woman had some fight left in her. She was also pissed off as all hell, a quite severe condition that Lisa experienced every now and then and whose side effects included cursing in the most creative ways through clenched teeth, trembling hands, quivering lips and flushed skin. She was now showing all the symptoms of her notorious wrath. Spontaneous combustion was imminent, and Michael knew it. But this was way better than seeing her crushed.

“Stop it! I ain’t letting you go until you calm the fuck down! Calm down, for Christ’s sake! You’ll end up hurting yourself!”

“What the fuck is it, that you want? Huh?” Breathlessly, she was trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Fuck off!”

He squared his jaw and, still holding her, moved her backward until her backside collided with the wall. And he collided with her. Her body felt scorching hot, vibrant and he shuddered, their mouths so close now that they could almost breathe each other. By the instinctive way she reacted, trembling against him, Michael suddenly realized they both were sexually affected by their fight. Lisa looked at him, stunned.

“What the fuck is this? Are you forcing yourself on me?”

“What?! Is that what you think?” He was stunned. He couldn’t believe his ears. “You really think I’d ever do anything like that? To anyone? To you, especially? To the woman I…” He pursed his lips and exhaled deeply.

Lisa’s eyes narrowed.

“To the woman you, what?”

“Nothing.”

“Say it!”

“Nothing.”

Michael’s voice was now reduced to a hoarse whisper. He shook his head and slowly let go of her, his arms now hanging at his sides. Lisa staggered, her breathing ragged as if she had run a marathon. She swallowed and rested her back against the wall, once again.

“What do you want, Michael? Why are you here?” She sounded exhausted.

“No reason… You’re right. I shouldn’t have come.” He backed off and she squeezed her eyes shut for a split second, her head heavy over her shoulders.

He was such an incredibly stubborn, frustrating man. And she loved him more than life.

“See? That’s the point, Michael… What you and I have, it’s a wildfire… And we don’t even burn things to the ground to build a better version of them. We just… annihilate everything. That’s what we do. That’s where we fail. That’s why it’s over.”

He flinched.

“Is that what you think this is all about?”

“No, of course not. There’s so much more than that. But the point is… do you even care?”

“About what?” His voice sounded strained, on the verge of shattering.

“About us…”

His eyes flew up at her.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What the fuck?! Are you? If you do care, then why you gotta be so damn constipated when it comes to expressing your feelings? I’m not a song, Michael! I don’t need your convoluted metaphors! I need frankness, I need openness! I need…”

“And I need you to shut the fuck up for once.”

He stepped closer and erased the gap that separated them, covering her mouth with his, silencing her. He could faintly hear her muffled protests, but they only edged him further. And he knew her. He knew what she needed. He knew what they both needed.

Lisa’s hands, up until that point closed in fists on his crumpled shirt, turned into a caress on his chest within a handful of seconds. Her moans in his mouth softened and became little whimpers, and he was not surprised when her tongue aggressively entered his mouth, looking for the most intimate contact. A kiss. A kiss that spoke of passion, fear, and love above all.

Michael framed her face with both hands and deepened the kiss, needing to feel all of her, and her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers ran across his back, landed on his ass and pulled him closer and against her body. Her pelvis already grinding against his groin, which immediately responded to her chant.

Drunk with lust and exhilarated by the sudden turn of events, he traced a path of kisses from Lisa’s mouth to her throat, and her head fell back, against the wall. Her breath coming out in gasps, her trembling hands getting reacquainted with his body.

“Fuck…” Sighing, she let her fingers run through his hair and held his head where she needed it to be. “Michael… Oh, shit… We should… ”

“Stop… stop talking… stop talking…” His response was whispered in between kisses. “Just… feel me. Feel what I gotta say to you…”

He blindly reached for her shirt – well, his shirt – and undid a couple of buttons, then his fingers dipped in, finding the soft swell of her breasts, kneading them, the feeling of her hard nipples pushing against his palm heavenly and familiar.

Lisa moaned.

“God… Lisa, Lisa… baby girl… I missed you so fucking much… I need you so bad it hurts…”

His defenses down, he couldn’t stop himself. The words came out just like that, about startling him.

He found her mouth again, and this time their kiss was ravenous. Lisa held onto his shoulders and pushed him back until he collided with the opposite wall. Her lips descended on his neck, sucking on his skin, making him sigh as her hands found his ass again. Michael felt her fingers push into his back pocket, and barely registered that she had found the envelope.

Lisa backed off slightly, holding it in her hands, staring at it. She looked up at him and blinked. Her chest rose and fall quickly, and she was breathless.

“What’s this?”

Michael swallowed and leaned back against the wall.

“The divorce papers,” he whispered, through the haze of his desire.

Lisa’s stomach dropped.

“Is that why you’re here for?” She moved a step back, looking at him, stunned. “To lay these on me? And for a last fuck, maybe?”

He nodded his head slightly.

“Yeah… I came here to give you those papers… personally. No outsiders involved. They’ve already done too much damage.”

Lisa’s lips quivered, her eyes watered.

“Well, at least you’re being honest…”

“Open that envelope.”

“No… I don’t need to see them. I got the message… loud and clear.”

“Open it, Lise.” He took a deep breath. “See what I really am here for.”

Hesitantly, setting her jaw and bracing herself for the incoming disaster, Lisa opened the envelope. The divorce papers she had sent Michael in January were there. Torn to pieces.

This time she couldn’t do anything to stop the tears and, when she looked up at him again, they blurred her vision. Michael gently took the envelope from her hand and let it fall on the floor.

“That’s what I think about you wanting to divorce me…” He frowned. “…That is bullshit, that is. I thought I would just tell you that I’m not gonna let anyone to blindside me… like you did. Which is true. But now… Now I know that it’s just because I love you… so fucking much.”

Lisa’s sob seemed to escape from the depths of her soul. No more abyss. No more darkness. That drop of light was illuminating everything once again. Michael cleared his throat, suddenly choking on his words.

“I just want you to know that, if you really wanna divorce me, you’ll have to put up with the fact that I wanna try again first. You’ll have to put up with the fact that I love you. That I want this to work. That when I said ‘I do,’ I meant forever. And I know it was the same for you.”

All oxygen left her lungs, and she almost physically recoiled at his words.

“That we gotta stop with this masquerade of lies, half-truths, silence… That whatever problem we have… we’ll fix it. Together. Because I want you… I chose you. I choose you… again. Still. Always. I choose you, Lisa.”

Shaking her head, Lisa threw herself into his arms and he caught her, his lips latching onto hers once again. She held his face in her hands and showered his face with kisses, on his closed eyelids and forehead, temples and cheeks, on his chin and lips, again.

“I am sorry… I’m sorry, Mike… I’m so fucking sorry…”

He held her tight, his heart about to burst out of his chest.

“Stop crying… it’s OK, baby. We’re here, now… We’re talking for real, this time.”

Michael backed off slightly and examined her face, his grave eyes looking at her, from one eye to the other, his thumbs wiping away her tears. Then he kissed her again and their descent into madness ended. Or resumed, turning into a different kind of madness. A much better one.

“I love you… I love so fucking much,” she whispered against his lips. Her shaky fingers started unbuttoning his shirt in a hurry.

“God, baby… Me too. I want you. I need you… Damn.”

“Please don’t ever let me go, OK? I’m a fucking lunatic. I’m crazy.”

Michael smiled.

“Yes… yes, you are…” Reaching down and under her shirt, he let his hands run on the naked skin of her thighs. “Gosh, Lise… you made me so angry… You have no idea.”

“No, I do… You know what? Knock me out, if I ever pull this shit all over you again…” She finally managed to open his shirt and started to kiss his chest, tasted his skin, inhaled his scent.

“Oh, I’mma knock you out alright…” Michael’s hand reached in between her legs, finding her naked. And wet. He moaned, softly. “…Oh, baby… you’re so smooth and warm… so ready, I feel you… I missed you so much.”

Leaning into his touch, Lisa allowed herself a second or two of pure ecstasy as every nerve ending in her body focused on the movement of his fingers. Then she reached down and found him, her hand caressing his steel, still painfully constrained by the fabric of his jeans. She undid the button and pulled down his fly, and he helped her out, holding her by the wrist and pushing her hand into his briefs. His head fell back and he sighed in relief when she finally freed him. Her fingers closed around him and he felt as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

As she started to stroke him firmly, Michael took off his shirt and removed hers, and she pulled down his jeans. His pants landed around his ankles, and he quickly got rid of them, together with his shoes and socks. Then he picked her up and, without a word, carried her to their bedroom, stopping at the foot of the bed, still kissing her with all the pent-up desire he had accumulated in the past weeks, reveling in her little sound of pleasure and in the sensation of her nails scraping his naked shoulders. He put her down and turned her around, pulling her into him, his chest pressing against her smooth back. His arms closed around her torso and his hands found her breasts. Lisa’s head fell back against his shoulder, and she turned her face just enough to meet his lips. They kissed again, as he started to move his hips against her perfect ass.

“Oh, baby… you want me like this? Right here?” The submissive, sultry tone almost did him in. She spoke right against his lips, in between kisses, just as her hand reached back and found him again. “Take these off…” She pulled at the waistband of his briefs, and he immediately complied. It was only a matter of seconds before she felt his hands on her waist again and his hot lips on her back, leaving a trail of kisses along her spine. Lisa shivered.

His mouth reached her ear, and he pushed her long hair to a side, kissing her neck.

“Yes… I want you like this… right here. Bend over…  Hands on the bed…” Another set of kisses on her nape. His hand on her warm center, caressing her, priming her for what he had to give her, and she thought she would pass out. “…And spread those beautiful legs, girl.”

Lisa’s ears buzzed as she did what was asked. The anticipation almost killed her. And so did the feeling of his straining erection against her center, stroking her. She bit her lip as she bent over the bed.

“Come on, Mike… Please…”

“I want you to say it.” His voice was soft, but dark and her arousal heightened, her mouth watered.

“Take me…”

“Come again?”

She had to smile and shook her head.

“…Take me like this… from behind…. Fuck me, baby. I need to feel you…”

Michael was so aroused that he didn’t need to guide himself into her. His penis found its way back home without any help and entered her slowly, inch after her, twitching when she arched her back and her internal muscles clenched on him. They both were on fire, ready to combust.

“Shit… Mike…”

“Wait… Hold on… Girl… You’re killing me already… Fuck…”

“Come on… Oh, God.” She gasped when he gave her a few, shallow thrusts and her head fell forward, almost touching the mattress. “There you go… Give it to me, baby… I need to feel you. I need all of you…”

He held onto her hips, his eyes fixed on her perfect ass and, biting his lip, he finally pushed forward with a powerful thrust, filling her completely. He heard her loud moan and let his fingers run on her back in slow, tantalizing caresses, in utter contrast compared to the hardness and fullness taxing her body. Lisa’s legs trembled slightly as she did her best to accommodate his size.

“You OK, baby?” Michael’s voice sounded strained.

“Yeah… Damn…” Leaned on her elbows, Lisa was panting. “Move, for heaven’s sake… don’t stand still… fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard.”

“Shit… You’re on fire, baby… God…”

Their usual roles in their sex play felt almost reversed. Michael realized once again how him being the alpha male only functioned at his best when Lisa found the perfect balance between dominance and submission. The only feeling invading his soul was love. Pure, undiluted love. The days he had disappeared from Lisa’s radar had also served as a means to an end: deciding what he was going to do with his life, with his future. Sure, he usually didn’t compromise – ever. But could this rule apply to each and every aspect of his life? Could it be that, sometimes, compromising was the right thing to do? Especially when his partner was involved? Could it be that loving Lisa was more important than proving to her that his pride could not be warped, no matter the reason? And maybe, just maybe, that they could take their crisis as an opportunity to grow? Together?

Together.

What a beautiful word.

England, February 1st, 2018

“…And the buzz is that you’re gonna release a new album very soon.” The journalist raised an eyebrow. “Is it true?”

Leaning comfortably on the couch, her legs crossed, Lisa studied her with a cryptic look in her bright blue eyes. The girl was young and enthusiastic and didn’t seem judgmental or hypercritical. Instinctively, Lisa liked her. She grinned.

“I don’t know where those rumors come from, and I wouldn’t know about the very soon part, but I am definitely working on some new songs.”

“I am sorry Lisa, but I cannot refrain from asking you if your husband will be involved, this time.”

Oh, Lisa had been expecting that… and it made her laugh, heartily. She tried to regain her composure, but her eyes kept shimmering with genuine amusement.

“Well… Michael and I try not to mix professional and personal life… He does his thing, I do mine.”

“So we won’t ever hear a duet between you and the King of Pop, I guess…”

Lisa could see the disappointment on the young journalist’s face. Just like she detected her casual glances around the house, surely in hopes of seeing Michael magically appear, maybe moonwalking into the room. Yeah well, she shouldn’t count on it. The press had relented since they had moved to England in 1998, but they were still in the spotlight. It was inevitable. Although the British paparazzi weren’t as vicious as their American colleagues, she and Michael still had their fair share of photographers hiding in the bushes and following them around whenever they set foot out of their mansion.

“Not publicly. But sometimes we do sing together… just for fun.” She smirked. “But I don’t think we’ll ever record any duet so, no. Besides, he’s been busy with his movie production company for a while now. Music’s still his biggest love, but he’s onto other things lately.”

“And they all come after his family.”

“Everything comes after our family, of course.”

“About two years into your marriage, rumors spread that you and Michael were about to divorce. And then it didn’t happen. And this year you’ll celebrate your 24th anniversary. How does it feel? To be married for so long to the man that’s still universally recognized as the King of Pop?”

Lisa pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled, her eyes softening. Seeing Michael recognized for the trailblazer that he was always made her feel delighted. She always had been so proud of him.

“See, that’s the point. We were never together for the reasons the press claimed. We’re together because we love each other. At one point, we just managed to get rid of a lot of people who were getting in the way of our marriage, both on my part and his part. We did it to protect ourselves… both as a couple and as a unit. And thankfully it worked. Moving to Europe helped us realize what was good for our family and what wasn’t. And at the end of the day, he’s just Mike to me… just like I’m just Lisa to him. But anyway, to answer your question… it does feel damn good to be married to him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He’s the man I love. Pure and simple. And I am proud to be his wife.”

“And how does it feel to have such a large family? I mean… your two kids from your first marriage, and then five other kids with Michael. That’s a whole bunch of babies around the house!”

Lisa chuckled.

“Well, let’s just say that our twins were a complete surprise. We weren’t really trying to have any more kids, but then we got blessed again. Thank God, Riley and Benjamin were old enough to offer their amazing support. And Michael is such a great dad, very helpful. I think I barely had to get up during the night because the twins were crying. He was always on it and –“ She stopped, mid-word, seeing Michael walk into the room. “…Speak of the devil. There he is.”

The young journalist blushed even before turning her head, and Lisa almost saw her jump out of her skin. Michael, looking absolutely stunning in his black suit and black shirt, his hair short now, his long sideburns streaked with grey, smiled that dazzling smile that still managed to melt steel.

“Hey…”

The journalist motioned to stand up, and he showed her the palms of his hands in a dismissive gesture.

“Oh no, no… Please, stay. There’s no need to get up, really. Hello. I’m sorry to interrupt, I just need to speak to my wife for a minute.”

Still staring at him mouth agape, the journalist just nodded her head, and Lisa took Michael’s stretched out hand.

“I will be right back,” she excused herself.

Michael guided her to his study and closed the door behind his back. He turned and met Lisa’s eyes.

“So… is that pain in the ass over, yet?”

She snorted.

“Look at you. You make your grand entrance, totally uninvited, looking all nice and angelic, and then you’re so mean the moment you know they can’t hear you. You are too much.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m asking you how long they’re planning to stay. It’s been…” He glanced at his watch. “…Almost four and the kids will be back around eight. I’d very much like to spend some quality time with my wife… Since it’s her birthday and all.”

Lisa stepped closer and ran her hands over his chest, then brought his head down and kissed him, slowly, savoring the moment and his inebriating taste.

“Me too, baby, me too… OK… You know what? You’re right.” The little pecks on his lips continued. “I’ll try to make it quick…”

“Good, ‘cause I plan to make it real slow, woman…”

“Aren’t you sick of me after all these years?” She pulled back slightly and studied his beautiful face, his boyish grin, the small wrinkles around his eyes. He looked terrific, healthy, strong, and in great shape.

“Did I look sick of you last night? Or the night before?”

Lisa pretended to think about it for a moment.

“Uhmm… no.”

“See? Go! Tell ‘em we have a meeting or something and throw them out.” He slapped her ass playfully, making her yelp in surprise.

“OK… Alright. You win. I got this.” She moved a step back, but not before giving him another kiss.

“You got this, baby. Go. And remember the motto… Make it happen.”

“Yeah? I thought it was “make that change” Mike…” Lisa chuckled and headed to the door, swaying her hips seductively.

“Right. Make that change, Lisa. Change the position of the troupe from inside to outside of our property. I have faith in you.”

She shook her head, still chuckling, and rested her hand on the door handle.

“Lise…” He called out before she pushed the door open.

“Yes, Mike?” She looked at him over her shoulder. He was sitting on his desk, his feet dangling.

He pressed the palm of his hand on his mouth and blew her a kiss.

“I love you. I’ll be waiting.”

“And I’ll always come back to you. You know that.”

End.

Last edit: June 2019.

Soundtrack

Silence is closing in on us
rising from ashes and dust
we are lost in a desert
we are broken and shattered
I try to be the boy that I was

Don’t give up on me now
Don’t let me down

So why must we fight, when we seek for love
and why do we try to break each other down
tell me why do we hide behind a masquerade of lies
I try to be the boy that you loved

Don’t give up on me now
Don’t let me down